


The Dancer

by valda



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Exotic Dance, M/M, Master/Slave, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Rimming, Sexual Roleplay, Strip Tease, this is probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: In tonight's fantasy, Kylo is the wealthy master, and Hux is the latest dancer to join his collection.





	The Dancer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fauxtalian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fauxtalian/gifts).



> Written for a Tumblr prompt from my lovely friend fauxtalian. Originally posted [here](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/174984681613/cooooooooos-d-kylux-in-51-pretty-please-3).

This was the most elaborate scenario that had ever played out between them.

The preparations had taken weeks, a clever requisition here and a small under-the-table deal there until all the pieces had finally been obtained. Red, non-regulation emitters to soften the stark light of the room, give it a warm yet slightly dangerous feel. Rich, dark velvet cloth with gold tiebacks to block out the stars and add depth to the walls. An exceptionally diverse assortment of candies, smuggled in from the Core worlds at an exorbitant price. Perfectly aged Arkanis brandy that cost just as much. And music, off-network, secure from the prying ears of anyone else on board. Rhythmic, pulsing, thrumming the very air.

Even the armless chair was part of the scene, narrow but luxuriously deep and soft, so unlike standard-issue seating. He lounged comfortably, legs cocked wide, fully clothed as requested. And he waited.

For quite some time, nothing happened. He was patient, letting his mind drift off with the music, enjoying the illusion. Here, he was a gangster king, a pirate emperor, and everything in this palace belonged to him.

Finally there came a soft rustling from the direction of the ‘fresher—no, here it was the doorway leading to the private chambers of the very best dancers this sector had to offer. Tonight he would enjoy the talents of his newest acquisition.

The draped velvet gave way to a tall figure cloaked from head to toe in shimmering blue and gold fabrics. Nothing of the dancer was visible save pale fingers peeking out from voluminous sleeves and his blue-green eyes, which darted back and forth as he stepped almost clumsily forward.

“Beautiful.”

This encouraging murmur seemed to embolden the dancer; he took a few more steps, graceful now, until he was standing at the very center of the room, directly in front of the chair.

“Dance for me.”

He began slowly, arms moving in sweeping arcs until the right was raised beside his head, elbow slightly bent and fingers forming a fan, and the left lay in an answering position across his chest. He held that pose, snapping his gaze forward so that their eyes were locked on each other, then abruptly shifted his torso away from the direction of his arms, rolling his head to the side and cocking out a hip. The motion jangled the tiny gold bells on his belt.

Again the dancer held his pose, hip thrust out, arms still in the air, face in profile. Then he spun lightly on one foot, doing a complete turn as he lowered fluttering hands to his belt. It unbuckled with some difficulty; the dancer shuffled forward, hips swaying, and leaned in to drape the belt around his observer’s shoulders, keeping his body tantalizingly away from the spread thighs.

He was so excited, so eager to please, that he was practically radiating it.

The dancer turned and swaggered away, shimmying his hips, offering up his ass for inspection. It was hard to make out beneath the layers of fabric, which made it all the more alluring.

Another spin, and the dancer’s hood fell back, freeing a shock of normally slicked-back red hair. It was the messiest Kylo had ever seen it outside of bed. But no—he’d never seen this hair before. He was lord of this place and this was his exotic prize.

Delicate strands of gold cord formed a loose crown that sparkled at the dancer’s hairline. Tendrils hung down to sway at either side of his face, the lower half of which was still hidden beneath a sky-blue veil that made his eyes glimmer in the low light.

The dancer shrugged off his outer robe, letting it fall to his feet in a decadent pool. It was obscene, allowing a garment of that quality, that price, to touch the floor. A man like General Hux of the First Order would be horrified. He’d recoil from all of this excess—the room, the candies, the liquor—able to think of nothing but  _wasted resources_  and  _shameless frivolity_. He would be utterly revolted.

The dancer, however, was rapturous, and his broad smile was apparent through the mask as he shook his shoulders forward and back, his upper body now bare and glowing pale under the red lights, ornamented only by the slim gold chain around his neck.

Kylo shifted in his seat, balling his fists atop his thighs.

Where the robe had been lavish, rich gold fabric covered in intricate blue embroidery, the cloth beneath it was simple, solid sky blue with a subtle shimmer. There also wasn’t much of it: a panel in front and another in back, cascading to the floor from a belt of gold metal slung low on the dancer’s waist. Hux—no, Kylo reminded himself again, the dancer—swept his hands slowly up the length of his body, drawing Kylo’s gaze first to the inviting trail of red curls just visible above the belt, then across the smooth softness of his stomach, then up to the hard pink nubs standing out on his chest. The dancer brushed his fingers lightly across them, sending a tremor through his own body that he transformed into a sensuous wriggle.

Now he stepped forward, bare feet silent on the ornate rug, until he was so close that Kylo could feel his body heat against his thighs—so close, yet not touching. The dancer raised his arms over his head, swinging his lower body back and forth. Kylo stared, mesmerized, at the play of light along the divots of the dancer’s hips.

Then the dancer was reaching out toward Kylo’s face. “May I, Master?” he said softly, voice muffled through the thin fabric of the veil.

Kylo nodded wordlessly, and the dancer pressed the releases on either side of his helmet, pulling it gently away. Rather than setting it down, however, he danced away with it, sweeping it aloft, gazing at it, drawing it back in and dragging it along his ribs and across his stomach as his entire body undulated.

The dancer abruptly stopped moving, raising Kylo’s mask in one hand to the height of his veil, then delicately lifting his veil with his other hand. His bright red tongue flicked out, slowly licked a line from the mask’s chin to its eye-slit.

Kylo shuddered and adjusted himself in the chair.

The dancer’s eyes turned to him, wide and hopeful. Kylo licked his lips, and what he could see of the dancer’s face flushed bright red.

Hips swaying again, the dancer dropped the veil back over his mouth and carried Kylo’s helmet to the low table, which was strewn with Kylo’s riches. He exchanged the helm for a particularly sweet, melty candy, holding the treat delicately between two fingers as he danced back to where Kylo sat.

The dancer turned gracefully to face away from his master, then bent at the waist and thrust out his ass, brushing lightly against the bulge in Kylo’s pants. Kylo’s fingers twitched and he barely managed to stop himself from grabbing Hux by the hips and forcing him into his lap. The dancer undulated against him, just barely touching, and Kylo let out an involuntary growl. Twisting to look over his slim shoulder, the dancer pressed the candy to Kylo’s lips; Kylo parted them, allowing Hux to slip the candy into his mouth, daring to suck and lick melted sweetness from the tips of Hux’s fingers.

The dancer straightened, turned, raised his arms over his head, and swung one leg out to straddle Kylo’s lap, looping his arms around Kylo’s neck. He bucked lazily against Kylo, letting his master feel the stiffness of his own cock beneath the thin fabric of the loincloth. Kylo groaned and turned his nose toward Hux’s forearm, relishing the scent of his skin, smiling as a smattering of goosebumps rose at the feathery touch of his breath.

For a time Kylo’s universe was sweet friction, the dancer’s cock rutting against his own, the dancer’s fingers laced behind his neck. It was intoxicating, and yet it was not nearly enough—Kylo could not touch him, could not taste him, could not even see his mouth. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides.

Finally the dancer unlaced his fingers, teasing them across Kylo’s shoulders and down his arms. Then he rose off Kylo’s lap, and the sudden loss was dizzying. Confused, desperate, Kylo’s mouth fell open in a pant as the dancer moved fluidly away, returning to that table and retrieving something else. A bottle.

The dancer turned to look at Kylo, hips swinging slowly back and forth. With a quick twist of his fingers, the slim belt was undone, slipping off his waist and pulling the loincloth to the floor. The dancer’s cock, still hard and wet at the tip, bobbed up toward his stomach.

Kylo licked his lips again, and the dancer smiled. Then he turned his back to Kylo, spread his legs, and bent at the waist, exposing himself to Kylo completely. The purpose of the bottle became apparent when one of the dancer’s hands slid up between his legs, glistening with lube. The dancer traced a slow line up and down between his own cheeks, then finally pushed a slick finger into himself, legs shaking as he held himself in place, his debauchery on full display.

Desperate to touch himself, Kylo dug his fingers into his thighs to keep them still and watched Hux work himself open. “So good,” he groaned, and the dancer froze in place for a moment, ass and thighs flushing rosy pink. Kylo could barely stand it. “Keep going. You’re doing so well,” he grunted, giving in and fumbling his pants open. His cock sprang out, red and thick and hard. And then Hux was thrusting three fingers into his hole, and it was so hot and tight and wet, Kylo knew it. He knew it, and he needed it. “Now,” he huffed.

The dancer straightened and turned back toward Kylo, lube dripping down his thighs. He rolled his hips, abs flexing, cock bobbing, and Kylo growled and summoned the lube to his hand with the Force.

“Let me, Master, please,” the dancer said, gliding back to Kylo and reclaiming the lube. Pouring it over his fingers and palm, he slid the column of his hand down Kylo’s straining cock and back up again, slicking it, milking out a long groan.

Panting, breath puffing against his veil, the dancer raised himself on shaking legs over Kylo’s lap, pressing the wet head of Kylo’s cock against his dripping hole. He paused, gazing at Kylo through lowered lashes, then began to descend, taking Kylo centimeter by torturous centimeter.

Kylo worried at his lower lip with his teeth, watching Hux’s slim frame shuddering with the effort of holding the awkward position, of lowering so gradually. Hux’s hole was so hot, so wet, so tight, and Kylo was barely inside it. Letting out an impatient growl, he reached up and splayed his fingers around the dancer’s hips.

“Let me pleasure you, Master,” Hux protested, breathless.

“If this is about my pleasure,” Kylo countered, “then let me take what I want.” And without waiting for a response, he lifted Hux bodily by the hips, dragging him up the length his cock, almost letting it slip free—and then slamming him back down, fucking up into him. Hux’s messy hair bounced, and so did his cock, and his face was bright pink. “You put on such a good show,” Kylo told him, his voice a growl as he lifted Hux off his cock again. “Such a good little dancer. And now I get to use you. I’m going to use you all up.”

He shoved Hux back down around his cock, burying himself to the hilt with a strangled grunt. Then he let go of Hux’s hips, slipping his hands across Hux’s thighs and down between Hux’s legs. Bending forward, he hooked Hux’s knees with his forearms and Hux’s armpits with his palms, spreading Hux wide, shifting the position of his cock inside him.

Hux shuddered, letting out a soft whine that had Kylo moaning and biting into his neck in answer. “Good,” he growled, and then he lurched up out of the chair, staggered across the room, and slammed Hux’s back into the nearest wall. “Mine,” he huffed.

“Yes,” the dancer gasped, his voice very nearly a sob. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Master, I’m yours, all yours.”

Kylo pressed his body close to Hux’s for a moment, grinding up against him. Then he drew his hips slowly back, withdrawing his cock from Hux’s tight heat. Hux was shaking, clinging to Kylo’s shoulders, fingers twitching, nails digging into the skin. “M–master,” he pleaded. Kylo bit Hux’s neck hard enough to bruise, then drove his hips forward, plunging his cock back into Hux.

“I love—” Kylo breathed into Hux’s neck, punctuating each group of words with a thrust, “—how much—you need—my approval. How much—you need— _this_.” And then he was slamming his cock home too hard, too fast to think of anything but the mounting pressure low in his belly, the sparking behind his eyes. He was—

Gasping, Kylo pulled out completely. Hux whined, panting hard beneath the veil, the gossamer fabric now plastered to his cheeks with sweat. “No,” Kylo said, his voice more strangled than he would have liked. “Not yet.” He held Hux pinned to the wall for a long moment as he caught his breath, willed his arousal to subside enough that he would not come instantly at the next touch. Finally, drawing one last deep lungful of air, he lowered Hux to his feet. “On the floor, on your back,” he said, his voice once again steady and low.

Hux staggered a little when Kylo let go of him, catching his balance just barely before lowering himself to the plush rug beneath their feet. He rolled onto his back and hugged his knees to his chest.

“Good,” Kylo said, and at his words the patchy pink flush across Hux’s neck and chest darkened and spread. “Very good.”

Kylo lowered himself to one knee and caught Hux by the ankles, spreading him wide, bending him back so far his ass was nearly a full foot above the floor. Hux gazed up at him, eyes wide, taking slow, panting breaths.

“You want me to take you?” Kylo asked.

“I want,” Hux gasped, “whatever you want, Master. I want to pleasure you.” This wasn’t Hux. He had completely lost himself to the role.

“I want you to scream,” Kylo said. He slid his hands down to the backs of Hux’s knees, keeping Hux’s legs in position and his ass off the floor as he moved lower down Hux’s body. Hux let out a choked whimper. Kylo grinned at him, then leaned forward, nosing along the lube-slick cleft of Hux’s ass.

This dancer was the perfect tribute for a king. Exquisite sounds shuddered their way from the soft pink mouth that lay behind the veil as Kylo dragged his nose up and followed it with his tongue. Those long, slim legs were twitching, trembling, and when Kylo lifted his head to look he saw the dancer’s hands fisted in his own hair. Humming thoughtfully, Kylo licked into his dancer’s slick hole, prompting a squeal that turned into a whine as he withdrew.

“You’re mine,” Kylo said, “so I’m going to claim you. Ruin you.”

“Yes, Master,” the dancer huffed—and then he squealed again as Kylo dropped his legs, grabbed his hips, and rolled him onto his stomach. Pulling the dancer roughly to his knees, Kylo thrust into him without preamble, punching a strangled gasp out through the dancer’s lips. One of Kylo’s hands found its way to the dancer’s thick fall of red hair, grabbing a handful and yanking so that the dancer screeched, back arching beautifully. Then he was fucking him, driving into him again and again and again.

Slurred babbling fell in breathless huffs from the dancer’s lips as his hands scrabbled at the carpet. “Break me, break me, oh, please! Tear me in half with your beautiful cock. Master, Master, please, I was made for you,” and at that Kylo shook and shouted and came, filling his dancer up, marking him.

Kylo slumped backward into a sitting position, pulling the dancer into his lap. Everything was dim and hazy and wonderful. He held Hux to him, one hand playing over a nipple while the other slid down to Hux’s cock. To his mild surprise, Hux twitched at the contact and demanded, “Stop.” His cock was flagging, and there was a mess on the carpet in front of them.

He’d come untouched.

“Slut,” Kylo purred into his ear, giving Hux’s cock one cruel stroke just to hear him whimper. “Did you like being used?”

Hux was breathing hard; he tipped his head back and leaned it atop Kylo’s shoulder. “That’s enough,” he said, turning his head to nip at Kylo’s ear. The scene was over; Kylo ducked his head and kissed Hux’s shoulder. “It was…rather more than I expected it would be,” Hux said.

“Oh,” Kylo said, arms tightening around Hux’s waist. “It wasn’t good?”

“Kylo,” Hux said in his I’m-being-patient-with-you-so-you’d-better-appreciate-it voice, “it was  _exceptional_.”

Kylo huffed a relieved laugh. “It was,” he agreed. “I’ll do it again for you. Anytime.”

Hux rose on shaky legs, making Kylo gasp as his softened dick slid out of him, and turned to straddle Kylo, wrapping his arms around Kylo’s neck. “We’ll do it again,” he promised. “I think I’d rather like to see  _you_ dance.”


End file.
